


Förlorad Igen (Lost Again)

by goetterdamerung



Series: Mellan Sommar Och Höst (Between Summer and Autumn) [2]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goetterdamerung/pseuds/goetterdamerung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hearts reunite against a divided Camelot and the Church of Rome</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jag Behöver Dig (I Need You)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: DEATH OF MAJOR CHARACTER

Soaring high above, clouds obscuring him from view, the merlin's sharp eyes see its prey and with a piercing shriek he dives, talons outstretched... hungry for blood.

Barely dodging the errant bird; Uther, King of Camelot curses loudly.

"Haven't you got that cursed bird trained yet? It just missed my head you fool." Both fury and embarrassment colour his words and so they should... this is the fifth time in two weeks the new falcon has swooped him.

The Falconer can't work it out; the bird, albeit only new to the hood, was certainly capable and always brought down the kill. This behaviour was as strange as the circumstances of the bird's presence in the castle itself.

It was only four weeks previously when the Falconer spotted a magnificent merlin, perched in the tree opposite the grating that acted as a window into the Prince's cell. Slowly moving over to the tree, the Falconer raised his arm, startling the bird, but then incredibly, the bird swooped down and landed on his outstretched arm and began to preen and clean his feathers, completely unconcerned as the amazed handler took him back to the mews.

He may have been a magnificent bird, well trained and a natural at diving for the kill, but for reasons of its own, the merlin would always ignore the prey in favour of the King and would dive for him every time. Shrugging his shoulders, the falconer whistled for the errant bird and held his arm out... for nothing, for the first time, the bird ignored his call and flew to the grating, using his talons to anchor himself in place and flapping his wings urgently to maintain his balance and a piercing shriek that echoed through the cells. His sharp eyes picking out the details of the cell within; a thin pallet made up with threadbare blanket, a rickety writing desk, liberally spattered with ink and candle wax, a bookshelf full of books... and on the wall... a cross.

With a disdainful cry the merlin focussed his eyes on the cells occupant, his sharp cries changing to a soft crooning trill as he sees the man inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't believe my ears at first, I have been hearing that Merlin's cry every day now since that day... My Merlin's death and Merlin the Falcon's birth, hearing it every day with my mind's ears and my hearts memory, but now it is my physical ears that hear him... My Merlin.

Looking up at the grating, my heart lurches as I see a falcon gripping the grating and flapping his wings furiously.

"Mer... Merlin? Is that you?"

I'm not sure what to believe anymore, Merlin's ring thrums on my finger but I have been hearing his cry so often that hearing it now and seeing him clawing at the grating is like a dream, the same dream I have also been having since that day.

With his cries changing to a soft crooning, I race to the grating and reaching my arm up as far as it can, grip the lowest end of the grating... then nothing... nothing until I feel soft feathers caressing my fingertips.

"Merlin." Soft and loving tone as my heart hammers in my chest and Merlin drops his feathered head to my fingers and rubs his head against my fingers and his eyes flash a brilliant gold before returning to their falcon amber.

My Merlin... Home again, home with me.

The reality of the situation takes a while to sink in; why is he back? Can he change back into a man or is he to remain as a bird for the remainder of his life...? And if he could... would he still feel the same?

Five years, almost to the day, I remember exactly how Merlin looked, how he felt against me but now... now, I am different. Gone is the bulk from training and wearing armour every day, gone is the colour that time in the sun bestows, gone is the arrogance and regal bearing. Instead all there is left is a thin, pale ghost of a man, my hands have turned soft and my strength is gone all that is left is a memory of what used to be and the image in my mind of how I used to be.

It has been a long five years, as each day drew to an end I would mark the wall and fall asleep and dream I was in Merlin's arms... as the days turned to months and months turned slowly into years my hope that Merlin would return slowly died and crumbled. As my body lost its warrior build and took on more of a scholars build, my mind began to crave ways to keep busy. Surprisingly, the one who helped me the most risked his very existence every time he set foot into my cell... Brother Claudius.

The personification of all I saw that took Merlin from me... he has ended up being the one person I could speak to about everything. At first I gloried in verbally sparing with him over everything, he had no choice but to return day after day... you see it was his duty from his Arch Bishop AND King Uther that I be converted to Christerdom. You can imagine my response to that, a pale, weak man; deeply entrenched in the dogma of his order trying to convert me, ME the Crown Prince of Camelot to Christerdom.

Can you see the irony there, I couldn't at first, but slowly as I began to really talk to him, out of sheer desperation mind you, I could see that he was nearing the end of his patience, but eventually we managed to ignore the real reason he was here and instead began to speak about everyday things, the goings on at court and eventually, began talking about the church and Rome.

If it wasn't for Claudius, I would have gone mad from grief and boredom combined.

But that is for another time, now all I can think of is Merlin and what it means that he is back, in one shape or another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For six weeks now, Merlin has perched on the grating, every day as the sun reaches the zenith of the sky and for a few glorious moments I can touch my Merlin. A few glorious moments I feel like my old self... a few glorious fucking moments.

And every day, a few minutes after Merlin has left, I turn introspective and morose, a few moments with Merlin... a fucking bird... it is not enough, but as I said to Merlin many years ago, I am not strong enough to send him away.

I still love Merlin the same as I did before everything went to pieces and I lost him.

Uther on the other hand... well I'm not sure anymore. Gone is the intense hatred I had before, gone but not forgotten. As I promised him, I still have not forgiven him and I never will, but after spending my life living for his approval... it is those times when he would grace me with a smile or a 'well done' nod that I miss. It is not his fault... completely that he is the way he is, Claudius had managed to discover quiet a lot out listening in to conversations, so I know some of the reasons for Uther's hatred of magic.

Uther loved his wife, of this I have no doubt, loved her as much as I love Merlin, where fire took mine away... magic took his away. I can understand, but still, never forgive.

Hearing keys rattling, I am thinking that Claudius is coming to visit early, but no.

Five guards, dressed in the Church Guards uniform of unrelieved black with a white cross emblazoned across their chest.

"Your Highness, King Uther has ordered your presence before him."The guard's voice is stark and uninflected; but the man's disapproval shines through clearly and I wonder, not for the first time, just what reason Uther has given for my imprisonment. Claudius, for reasons of his own, has refused to disclose that information to me.

Drawing upon my memory for the haughty, regal manner I used to respond to those of lesser station, "Am I to be presented to the King as I am? You may wear the insignia of the Church, but you are still subject to secular authority as well. I have not been disbarred nor disinherited. I am still your Crown Prince, you will allow me to bathe and change into raiment more suitable for an audience with the King."

Judging by the uncertain and slightly worried look on the guards' face, I still have it when I need it and I allow myself a small grin as I enjoy this small victory.

"Very well Your Highness, we shall escort you to your former chambers and allow you to bathe and change, you only have a few minutes though as King Uther has demanded your presence immediately."

Alright then, a very small victory, but still a victory none the less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A bath, even a cold one, feels wonderful; I have had to make do with a cloth and a bucket of water and I push the tolerance of the guards by taking my time. Clothes on the other hand became more of a nightmare; everything I owned were made for my former build, only some of my older clothing came close to fitting my thinner and reduced frame.

Unable to put it off any further, I dressed in an old pair of breeches of mine and one of Merlin's tunic's that was left in my chambers from happier days... I wish I could say that I could still smell Merlin on the tunic... but I can't... I can't smell him at all, but I can still feel him just by wearing his clothes. Taking a deep breath to help control the sense of longing that was plaguing me, I turned to the guards. "I am ready."

As I walk to King Uther's chambers, I can see the changes that have occurred during my incarceration, the art decorating the walls has been removed, furnishings and draperies have been toned down to an almost austere quality, but the most noticeable change was the Christers cross presence in every room and on every wall... it seems as if the Church of Rome had moved its court and relocated to the halls of Camelot.

Leaving my 'escort' at Uther's door I pause a moment as I gather my courage before lifting my hand to knock. So many thoughts running through my mind and no time to sort any of them into a semblance of order, finally knocking I wait to be called to enter.

Moments pass as I wait in vain for a call to enter; instead the door opens and in front of me stands the Arch Bishop, Benedict.

"Your father will see you now Arthur."

That voice, that hated voice, I am positive he had something to do with Uther catching Merlin and I in the woods. Pushing past the man, like the bug he is I turn to him, "He is not my father, my King perhaps, but he is not my father... he lost the right to that appellation five years ago."

My eyes are directing all my anger and pain at this man, but for all the vitriol I aim at him... it slides off of him all but untouched.

It is then my eyes light upon King Uther for the first time in five years.

Uther's face is gaunt and grey, he has aged in the past five years, much more so than just the passage of time would warrant. Letting my eyes roam around his chambers, I am surprised to see signs of everyday business present; it is almost as if Uther hasn't left his chambers for some time.

It is clear that Uther is unwell and Gaius' presence confirms this as he enters the room and I feel his hand lightly on my shoulder.

"Your father is gravely ill Arthur... Sire. I don't expect him to last much longer."

"What is wrong with him?" My voice is quiet and more worried than I am wont to let people know.

"Grief... anguish and grief is killing him Sire... the same as what is killing me as well."

Gaius spoke this last as if to himself, his own suffering and grief obvious to any with eyes and ears.

"Your father and I have both lost our sons Arthur, mine is ashes, his cut from his heart by his own actions, but regardless he suffers and he pays and soon he will pay the same price as Merlin. He will die for his love of you."

Hearing Gaius' grief brings my own back to the surface, but I know Merlin is still with us. I shall speak to Gaius after Uther has finished with me.

With a tear coursing my cheek I look up to Gaius's face and see one tracing his own. United in our grief for the same man, we don't hear Uther's faint call at first.

"Arthur...my son."

As much as I don't wish to, I can hear how much Uther is in pain, how much of that is physical I don't know.

"I am here as you commanded My King."

This is the man who ordered my Merlin to the flames.

"Ahhh, I had hoped you may have relented whilst you were away."

"Away! Let me refresh your memory my liege, you had my lover... MY LOVER, murdered, burnt alive because he was different, because I AM different... then, then you have me imprisoned for five years after you made me watch Merlin die in agony. All of this and you still complain that my heart has closed to you?"

My anger knows no bounds as the man who destroyed my life and who killed my Merlin dared to have the temerity to hope that I would forgive?

"For all of my hopes Arthur, forgiveness is not one of them. I have hated magic because it took my beloved Igraine away from me, I have hated magic for so long that I have turned it into a personal crusade. Lying here as I am, I know I am dying Arthur... I know what the loss of your beloved means... no, I do not ask your forgiveness, for I know I still haven't forgiven magic."

His voice even though weak, still holds some power of authority as I listen to him. Unwilling to feel anything other than anger and still failing as I see the state of him... Uther, King of Camelot and... my father.

"I do not expect you to forgive me for taking Merlin from you Arthur and that is something that although I dearly wish, if your mother could see us now, she would be appalled at me, her husband treat our son so. No, I only wish to apologise for the damage I have done to you Arthur, to you and soon to Camelot for when I die, you will be King... free to make your own decisions... and allegiances.

A noisy flapping at the open window draws our attention as Merlin, my Merlin lands on the sill.

"Who let that falcon loose", Uther demanded weakly, but I am ignoring him as I finally can see and hold Merlin properly for the first time in five years.

Whistling softly to Merlin I extend my arm, hoping that he will perch upon it. As he takes wing, Merlin flies across to Gaius and perches briefly on his shoulder and leans his head against the old physicians. A moment later Merlin is perched on my shoulder and is rubbing his face alongside my own.

"Merlin, oh my Merlin, I have missed you so much." Tears that were held in check since speaking to Gaius run free as Merlin presses against my face.

Turning to Uther, my father, "This is not just a falcon father... it is a Merlin... my Merlin."

Uther's face is a study of mixed emotions, fear, understanding, regret and finally relief.

With a hop and jump, Merlin is perched at the foot of Uther's bed, his eyes glowing a vibrant gold.

Pulling himself into a seated position, Uther extends his hand to Merlin and so quietly that I almost don't hear says, "Forgive me for my ignorance, forgive me for my jealousy and forgive my hatred... Merlin."

Hopping closer to Uther, Merlin moves close to Uther's outstretched hand and lays his head on the opened palm.

"Thank you, tha..."

We never heard the rest, My father's heart finally gave out and his chest rattled and a silent sigh escaped him. His arm dropped back down and his head hit the pillow beneath it.

With a quaking cry Gaius raises his voice, "The King is dead, long live the king... Long live King Arthur."

Turning to look back at my father, I see the same golden glow as Merlin's eyes surround both Merlin and my father, brighter and brighter it became, surrounding them both until it was impossible to look directly at them. When the glow faded, my father was gone, but Merlin was laying there in his place, naked and fully man shaped.

To the sound of Gaius collapsing to the ground in a dead faint, I leap upon the bed and cradle Merlin to my chest.

Merlin is alive and Merlin has returned to me once more.


	2. Vår Tid Är Nu (Our Time Is Now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No longer a falcon, Merlin shows he's still an animal

I am just an old man who has lived and seen more in my life than one man should. Six years ago a bright light entered my world and five years ago that light was extinguished... and now that light has been relit; not only for myself, but also for our King... King Arthur.

How I despaired that this witless boy could ever master his gift without the known world hounding him, but day by day that witless fool became more and more a man. A dangerous man; a good hearted man and more importantly he affected all others around him.

Arthur was always the golden boy, born to privilege and station. Many feared the day that the prince would become their king... until Merlin came along.

Arthur changed, slowly at first, from an arrogant adolescent to a man that many attempted to emulate and if history is a kind mistress, she will place that change at the feet of a tall, lanky lad with odd ears and an ever present smile.

The only problem is... history is a fickle lady and her tune changes with the passage of time until her original melody is no longer remembered and any changes are left in the hands of those who know no better.

History is written by the victor, not by the participants themselves and therefore she may only sing with one voice and I fear... I fear that she will be singing the glory of God whilst the ruins of Camelot crumble beneath her song and the true heroes will be only remembered a legend.

She will not remember Arthur and Merlin and the beauty of this time, only the bards shall ever speak their names and only those currently living will know the truth.

The truth that is Camelot, the truth of her King and his companion.

Merlin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying in my arms he is yet to stir, my arm has fallen numb several hours ago, but I am loathe to move... I have waited for five years to feel him against me once more and nothing, nothing shall take him from me now.

My hand rests above his heart, my ring echoing his heartbeat, there is so much I need to say and even more I want to say to him, but for now I am happy just to have him in my arms again... the rest can wait.

I know that there are so many things to organise and prepare my... father's funeral, my coronation and the abolishment of certain laws to name the most pressing of the enormous list. There is also the problem that Uther has left, The Christers; my views have changed over the years speaking to Brother Claudius and I am sure that the general majority are peaceable and wish nothing more than to live their lives the same as any of us. It is the upper echelons that give me pause.

Brother Alfonso, Claudius' superior at the abbey, he was a kindly old man who believed that men should live and let live; sure, he believed whole heartedly in Jesu and Christerdom, but not to the exclusion of basic human needs, a true believer caught in a power struggle between the Church and secular bodies. Power can be translated as land, you control the land; you have the power... even Uther understood this and he made sure I did as well.

Yet... Brother Alfonso paid the price for frustrating his superior's schemes and now that poor old man is nothing more that bones in the abbey graveyard. Claudius has managed to stay here in relative safety in the castle and I must find a way to keep him safe for I believe that the old ways are just that, the old ways and that Christerdom shall spread until there is nothing remaining of the old ways and magic. No, he must keep Claudius safe while forcing Benedict away.

Now we hit the crux of the matter, while I had no issue with the run of the mill Christers, the ruling class on the other hand, they had to be stopped before Camelot and even Albion is caught in the middle of an armed insurrection.

These thoughts and more race through my mind, but my mind is never far from the man in my arms either because without him, I could not do what I intend to do. As my first act as king, I shall repeal the laws regarding magic and sodomy... basically, I am going to declare war on the Church of Rome.

Running my hand his front, just to be able to feel him, to know he is really here. He has changed since the last time we were together; his hair has grown long and wild, reaching past his shoulders. His face has grown more masculine, his cheekbones no longer dominated his face instead complemented it and his ears... his ears... well, let's just say that they are as endearing as before.

His chest is now broader and muscled, I suppose flapping your wings for the last five years would help there, whereas before there was only a light sprinkling of hair running down the middle of his chest and continuing down... now there is an even coverage, slightly coarse, whorling patterns all over his chest. Masculine and definitely male, letting my eyes rove further down they alight upon his cock lying there thick and heavy, nestled in a thick patch of dark curls, it's hood slightly pulled back and his tip peeking through.

I remember the first time he fucked me, dry, no preparation, he pushed into me, forcing himself deep inside me. The pain was indescribable as he stretched me wide and buried himself firmly inside me, but regardless, he pulled me apart and put me back together that night. His cock huge within me; he controlled me inside and out and I have never since regretted it... sometimes even Prince's have to learn when to give up control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is still several hours till dawn and Merlin finally stirs enough for me to move my arm from beneath him. I am distracted from rubbing my arm by a feather light touch upon my cheek. I am incapable of ignoring his touch and I push my cheek into it, craving his skin on mine.

His eyes are iridescent in the reflected moonlight and they are staring at me in wonder, a soft crooning sound coming from deep within his chest, the same croon he would make when he was the merlin falcon. Raising his hand in one of mine, I lift it to my lips and place a chaste kiss upon each of his fingers, never once breaking away from his eyes.

As if this was an unspoken signal, Merlin gathers me in his arms and pulls me close, rubbing his face against mine.

"I thought I would never see you again, at least not in my real body... I've missed having arms and legs."

Still the same Merlin, quirky grin and all, his eyes lit up voice as eager as a puppy, it is nice to know that some things never change.

My ache for him must be visible; even in this dim light, as he bears down upon me and parts my lips with his own.

Again I am reminded of our first encounter, fierce and passionate, uncoordinated and clumsy, perfect, simply perfect.

Plundering my mouth with his tongue, forcing me to capitulate; both our bodies rocking against the other, grinding cocks and bruising hips... rough... wild... and just right.

Rolling me over onto my back he stills, then draws back to sit upon my hips looking down at me, hungry and wild... feral.

Leaning forward again, his hand cupping my neck whilst the other firmly grasping my hip, squeezing and kneading my flesh, driving me wild as I undulate beneath him... needing more contact, more of him... just more.

Easing first one leg then the other from beneath him, I lay both my legs astride his hips and gathering his hand in mine I pull it up to my mouth and wrap my tongue and lips around a finger, teasing him and me, showing him what I want and what I need, grinding my arse against his hard prick, telling it where it should be.

Guiding his finger down between my splayed legs, down past my balls to where I want him to be. Pushing his finger into me, not caring of the pain it causes me... I need this, I need him opening me up and getting me ready for his prick.

A deep moan makes its way from within me as my arse feels another finger enter. It has been so long and I need him now, all of him as hard as he can. I need to remember and I need to forget.

"Merlin, please... now, inside."

An evil glint lights his eyes at that, his own desire and need taking over.

"Hold your own legs in the air... King Arthur... hold them wide and hold them back", his voice similar to a predators snarl just before the kill.

Pulling my legs back as far as I can and resting my elbows behind my knees I am as open as I can be... and still he waits.

His fingers plunging in and out, but it's not enough, I need all of him and I need it now.

"Merlin, FUCK ME!" Sheer exasperation and need make my voice rough and harsh as my own arousal thrums.

Surging to his knees he places his arms above my shoulders on the bed and nudges my arse with his prick, teasing me. Raising one hand off the bed, he positions his cock right at my hole, but instead of thrusting into me he lets his own body weight push him into me.

A harsh scream is rent from my throat as the dual feelings of pain and pleasure assail me once again as I cant my hips further forward, trying to drive him in deeper as he arches his back, changing his centre of balance and forcing him further into me.

The pain is as I remembered it, but the pleasure far exceeds what I do remember, that exquisite feeling of being breached and plundered; taken without remorse, and as he begins to thrust in earnest... I learn to fly.


	3. Broder Claudius (Brother Claudius)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur would like to believe it is a coup d'etat, but will his first decrees set a chain of events in place that Camelot can not fight?

Many things have changed for me, even in me, in the last five years. I still hold deeply to my belief in Jesu, but... but the hold of the Church on me has lessened, its dogma and hypocrisy anathema to me. Even my own desires have become acceptable to me as never before Arthur would I even have allowed myself to dream.

For all that my Church denounces the worship of Pagan gods and magic and even sodomy; I am now left with a feeling of ease with all of this... and one of them in particular.

Let me go back a few years and tell you of my first meetings with Prince Arthur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The son has cast his soul with the evil ones which abound in this land, that the Prince of this realm has taken for himself a catamite is disgrace and shame enough for his father, who although is newly devout... devout he is none the less, but that this boy has also been burnt as a practitioner of the occult and magic leaves King Uther's heart and spirit's low and he has beseeched us to focus our attention on the Prince. That it was you yourself that witnessed his evil congress with the sorcerer may be used here. Rome has decided that you Brother Claudius, shall be tasked with the conversion to Christerdom of King Uther's son, you have until Uther's death for this miracle to happen, so there's ample time for you to persuade the heir to the throne to mend his ways. I image that being an indulged prince will have made him soft, certainly not one who could endure any extended time in the dungeons."

With my mouth I say, "Yes Your Eminence, with the strength and wisdom of Our Father I shall do my best", but in my heart I know his evaluation of the prince is wrong, dangerously wrong... and it will be my head on the block each time I walk into that cell, Arthur will never forgive those who had his lover killed and I'm not sure I blame him... even if I am one of those involved.

I know that the Arch Bishop has foisted this onto me, as punishment and as well for the simple necessity of it needing to be done... and there is no way he would sully himself with the task, not when he has the current King eating out of his palm, no the future is mine to deal with and suffer for.

Walking down to the dungeons it amazes me how people can change so drastically when they allow the church into their heart, letting Jesu and Our Father in is an easy task for they espouse that all men are equal in Our Father's love and divine wisdom, but it is the church that espouses the separation of self from the flesh, the condemnation of the body and heart and the principle of indulgences for future usage. Even if I am of the Church, I am not of the church.

King Uther has proven himself to be an impetuous and foolish ruler, fear of magic I can well understand, but hunting it to extinction is not something that Jesu would decree. The fact that the king has imprisoned his own son tells me more than I wish to know about that particular family structure... and the king wonders why his son gave his heart to a male sorcerer. Fairly obvious I think.

Approaching the cell door, I am reminded of a wild creature that has been injured, fiercely protective and violent, as he stalks about the cell, the whole four paces each way. Taking a deep breath I prepare to enter the lion's den.

"You!"

Barely within the cell proper and his hands are around my throat already.

"Because of you, Prestor my lover has burnt." His voice alone terrifies me and his hands are squeezing the life from me as tears course down his cheeks and I finally see how true his love was for the dark haired lad.

With the last breaths I have I manage to croak out, "Forgive me my Prince, for I knew no better", and I wait for my blessed peace and accounting with Our Lord.

Moments pass as ages when suddenly his hands leave my throat and I drop to ground gasping for air.

"Why?" I ask, after I have sufficient breath in my body, "Why not take my life in vengeance for the one taken from you?" My mind cannot comprehend why he has ceased his, at that point, fairly successful attempt on my life.

"Is that what you Christers preach, to take life needlessly; to kill with just cause, to murder those who disagree with you?" He snarls this out in disgust. The contempt plain in his voice and on his countenance as he spits out, "I may be a sodomite, nay not just a sodomite, I am the prince of them and my lover was a sorcerer, but even such as we have values. I could no more kill you, as much as I dearly wish I could, than I could a child who has disobeyed his father. I detest all you are and all you stand for, but it is not my right to kill you. Even a disgraced knight of Camelot has more honour than that."

His entire body resonates with the conviction of his speech and I am humbled before him.

"Now leave me mourn in peace." Pain and anguish thread their way through his entire being and cowed I scramble for the door and leave with as much haste as I can.

From that day onwards, I too became an acolyte of Prince Arthur's Camelot and my dearest wish was only to serve as befitted a believer of Jesu and Our Father... but not a disciple of the Church.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His Eminence has not deemed me important enough to tell me anything bar that Uther has passed on and I pray that I am forgiven for the joy that these words bring me, pray that I am forgiven even though I am unrepentant.

Arthur... actually, King Arthur now stands before all and sundry as the Arch Bishop has just crowned and anointed him the King of Camelot and Defender of the Faith. Even from this distance, I can see Arthur's mouth twist a little at this last.

Walking to the front of the dais where the Throne of Camelot sits in majestic splendour, Arthur dips his head for a moment then raises it to face those assembled. A soft mutter breaks out through the room as tears roll slowly down Arthur's cheek.

"Your Royal Majesties, my Lords and Ladies, all of you present today to mourn a great King. During my... isolation over these five years past, I have come to appreciate all the little things that when put together make up the whole. With the loss of my lover", sharp intakes of breath could be heard the entire hall through, "with the loss of my lover I have decreed that I shall take no paramour to replace he that I lost, no other could nor would grant me the solace and devotion shown to me by this one man. The succession will still hold firm with The Lady Morgana, Queen to follow me and her heirs to follow her."

The outcry is nigh deafening as the nobles clamoured to be heard and the ladies decried their missed chances.

"Silence!" the voice of command.

"I have said that I will take no other than the one who was taken from me and in this vein I decree that Sodomy nor any love between and man and a man, nor a woman and a woman be a crime within Camelot."

Raising his voice even louder to be heard above the outcry he continues, "Therefore I give you your new King Consort, Merlin of Ealdor."

Striding through the crowds to the dais I see the same dark haired man I saw those many years ago, the one worshiping Arthur's soul and body... I saw Merlin before us all.

"Futhermore, the ban on the practice of magic is also lifted and I welcome to the ranks of Royal Advisors, His Royal Highness Merlin of Ealdor, Royal Court Sorcerer."

After the outcry of Merlin's apparent rebirth, this silence is unnerving as all recalled the fate of Merlin previously. For him to be here now was the mark of power unheard of, the power of life and death.

Dropping to one knee before his King, Merlin reached out for Arthurs hand with the royal signet and placed the Kiss of Fealty upon its ruby surface.

The Arch Bishop seemed to be having problems breathing by this point, although not that anyone on the dais paid any heed. His fit of apoplexy just a joy to behold as dear to me as Arthur and his Merlin now.

"We have one final appointment to the Royal Privy Council; I call upon Brother Claudius to be our Spiritual Advisor and Representative to the Church of Rome. I thank his Eminence, The Arch Bishop of Albion for his time and efforts here in the Court of Camelot and do wish him well on his imminent return to Rome."

None present could mistake the courtly words for anything other than what they were; Arthur was banishing the Arch Bishop back to Rome and placing his own candidate in the position of power... oh Lord above, he means me.

"We call Brother Claudius to present himself to us."

From behind me, hands press into my back as I am propelled towards the dais and their Royal Majesties. Unable to miss the inscrutable gaze of Merlin and feeling fear within my entire being I abase myself before them.

"Nay my friend... rise."

Taking hold of my hand, I am pulled upright by King Arthur himself.

Speaking softer now to both Merlin and myself, Arthur's voice is pitched to just above a whisper, "If it were not for you Claudius, I would have gone insane in that cell, for that alone I would have honoured and respected you, but you have also proven to me that Christers are not all like Benedict and most just wish to live in peace, for that your are honoured, respected and raised to the honour of Royal Advisor."

Seeing Merlin's face soften at Arthur's words and then to hear him speak was a balm to my soul.

"Arthur has not had much time to tell me of his time below the castle and although you are not one who I would have expected to care, you obviously did and did so unstintingly, for this you have my thanks and respect, but we shall speak further anon."

Seeing the look of pure malevolence directed at me by the Arch Bishop left a chill that settled deep into my bones and which took many hours to dissipate.

"Now guests all, we shall make our way to the great hall and we shall remember the King, My Father, Uther."


	4. Så Långt. Långtifrån Hem (So Very Far From Home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth's hurt, even the most unlikely of souls

It is a miracle to see the open affection and outright love that Arthur has showered Merlin with so far tonight, not a miracle that he is doing so, but a miracle that only a small murmur is heard from all present. It is almost as if the last twenty five years had never occurred.

The natural emulation of the King accounts for some of this, but certainly not all; maid and maid no longer skulk the corners and shadows or hide in their chambers, servants and masters, mistress' and maids, lads and lads. No more do these furtive glances and forbidden touches remain within the realms of punishment and death; no... they are now seen as openly as those whom court the other sex... although certainly not quite so blatantly.

Camelot has mourned and now they celebrate, it celebrates the coronation of a new king and also celebrates the coming of a new age, but there is still two people here tonight who are not celebrating; Benedict, my... Arch Bishop still sits at the high table, but he is well aware that tonight is the last he shall spend within these walls. The other is Morgana, deep in her cups and from what I have seen, no longer waters her drink, but drinks directly from the mether before her and is obviously worse for wear for it. Her maid Guinevere seems to be just as upset as her mistress if the cool looks she darts occasionally to Arthur are any indication.

I can feel eyes upon my back and without looking I know to whom they belong, Benedict... it is only a matter of time before he makes a move this evening. Unable to directly face Arthur he will go for the one he can, the one he has always been able to coerce and force, the same person who now holds the position he so desperately craved... Me.

Since my formal appointment this afternoon, I have made a quick study into the practices and habits of the former advisor. The accounts and tallies that line his shelves made for interesting reading, it appears that some dozen or more estates have been tithed to the Church of Rome and some eight or nine have been left to Benedict personally as payment for indulgences and willed to the Church upon death leaving the remaining family destitute and homeless. The yearly taxation from these estates alone equals fifteen times what my family's estates back in Rome earn within five years and those familial estates are very lucrative and vast.

And there you see my shame; I, Claudius Alfonse de' Justine, only son to Augustus Perinos de' Justine, Governor of the Tirol region. I myself was 'elected' to the post of Magistrati. It was the pure nepotism that lead me to defy my father and my family and take the vows in Rome... not the most ignoble of reasons, but certainly not ones that could give me any comfort either.

Regardless, my family's estates were sizable and their income high, but this still doesn't begin to come close to the wealth that Benedict had managed to sequester away in his time of service to the King. I had promised myself that I would allow Arthur and Merlin the evening to enjoy themselves as they could, but the feeling of unease... and to be honest vindictiveness, leads me directly to Arthur's feet.

"Your Majesties, may I have a moment of time before you?" Nice to know I still hadn't forgotten the niceties.

Raising an eyebrow in askance, Arthur turns quickly to Merlin and I am positive an unspoken conversation occurred.

"Come, this would be better conducted in private." Merlin's voice grave.

Motioning to a couple of knights, Arthur had a hurried word to them and indicated over to where Benedict still was seated at the board. With nods of acquiescence the knights positioned themselves either side of the board and waited... for what I didn't know.

"Come, I think I know who you wish to discuss... and maybe even what." Arthur's face betrayed his worry and if it didn't, then the fact he repeatedly kept worrying his lower lip with his teeth did.

~**~

"Benedict." Short and flat, almost expressionless.

Nodding my head even though it was rhetorical, "Yes, Benedict. There is much more to him than just his control over the former King and Christendom in Albion." The distaste in my words does nothing to dispel the feelings of sickness and anger in my stomach.

"Albion has made Benedict a very wealthy man, many demenses have been tithed to the Church or willed personally to Benedict upon the ruling lord's demise. At a quick accounting, more than ninety thousand gold has been transferred from personal estates to either the Church or Benedict himself. Benedict enjoys great power and luxury, even though his personal chambers are sparse. A man with that sort of wealth may purchase many things... even the death of an inconvenient King."

Arthur's face is incredulous.

"No man, however well placed, would seek the death of a ruling monarch."

I think my face mirrored Arthur's incredulous one of before, "Are you such a fool then Arthur Pendragon? To believe that such a thing is impossible, if a man such as Benedict wants you gone, you can be sure that there would be many who would happily to his bidding for the right incentive."

Looking to Merlin, I can see that he understands the situation much more than his erstwhile lover does, but yet he remains silent on the matter. The only indication that he wishes me to continue is a small nod of his head.

My own country's history is full of such tales, not to mention your own. Your great, great grandfather was second cousin to the king, he himself led an uprising against the ruling monarch and sequestered himself as King. You must know this and yet you deign to believe that such a thing is impossible? You are either naive, or foolishly misguided... or just plain stupid."

The backhand slap that connects with my cheek brings tears to my eyes as I realise that he is no longer the imprisoned Prince, but instead the ruling King.

"Forgive me Your Majesty; it was not my place to speak as such."

Mortified that I had the temerity to speak as such to the king has my cheeks flaming brighter than the handprint that adorns my left cheek and I drop to my knees and abase myself before him.

Minutes pass with only the fraught silence screaming louder than a bansidhe. I feel fingers lift my chin and there before my very eyes is Arthur, tears upon his own cheeks.

"No, forgive me Claudius, you speak of things that I wish to remain ignorant of, but know better regardless. You are correct about my father's grandsire; he did murder his own king to ascend the throne in his place... I have raised you to personal advisor and yet I myself find that there is much of my own father in me when it comes to unpalatable truths, for even Uther would not listen when others more wise would speak if he it deemed so."

His fingers rest under my chin, his thumb just above my lips and it is more than I can bear as my mind shuts off and my body reacts to his touch. With his thumb softly caressing my lips, I open my mouth slightly and pursing my lips lay the gentlest of kisses on his thumb.

My own mortal weakness has been that this man is one I would follow to my death, not for allegiance, not for duty, but for love.

"Claudius." Softly breathed against my forehead, followed by the brief press of his lips, swiftly there and gone.

The air surrounds us with such power as we both remember the other still in the room.

Merlin's eyes are a blazing gold and his expression murderous, power crackling the very air around us.

Reaching out to Merlin, Arthur rests one hand upon his leg.

"Mer... both Claudius and I know who my heart belongs to, but this man before us has helped me in ways you were unable to. Nothing untoward has ever occurred, nor will it ever... but remember this, I have been aware of Caludius' feelings for me for many years and I too in my own way care for him deeply. But it is you Merlin that makes my heart beat... I may wear the ring bound to your heart, but my heart is tied to it as well, for if your heart ceases to beat, then mine will as well moments after. You have nothing to fear from Claudius and you have even less to fear from his feelings for me."

Even knowing the truth of his words, my own heart cries out at the injustice of it, where was Merlin when his lover was locked away? Who was the one person that cared for the Prince during his isolation... but I knew regardless where his heart has and will always be focused... and it is not on me.

"Claudius, Merlin and I need to discuss this, it would be better if you left us. Remember one thing though, you do own a piece of my heart, please be content with that. I could not bear to send you away anymore than I could bear to lose Merlin over this."

Both Merlin and I knew that this was directed at both of us; with his words, Arthur was reassuring both of us and still letting us both know how it was.

The air around us stilled, as if some great power was about to be loosed, then nothing, the air was nothing more than something we breathe.

Moving over to Merlin, I bow my head, "Forgive me, you must know how I feel and why."

Merlin's response was his hand on top of my head and his voice, soft and understanding, "I understand only too well what lengths Arthur Pendragon can make us go for nothing but his love. Go now, we shall talk privately anon."

Shuffling out the door, my head low and heart in two... I let the fact that Arthur does care for me warm me as tears of loss break free.


	5. Förnuftet Speglar Sanningen (Reason Reflects The Truth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur learns the truth of who he belongs to, so do others in Camelot

"He owns a piece of your heart?" His eyebrow rises inquisitively. "And just exactly when did that happen?" Conversational, but with that fine edge of possessiveness that just does things to me.

"So, just how many others may lay claim to pieces of your heart My King." That My King is definitely mocking, the rest is pure jealousy... and a jealous Merlin is one that completely disregards rank and takes me like the dog I am.

"Everyone loves the king Merlin... everyone." Smirking as his eyes turn dark and his breathing hitches. It is so easy to play him when he gets like this, I know who will pay for it as well... and I'm counting on it.

"And does everyone get to lay claim to more than a piece of your heart? Do they lay you down and take their pleasure from you? Or do you go down on your knees before them, mouth their cocks through their robes? I know you Arthur Pendragon, you can't get by without satisfying that urge you get, that urge that turns you into a slattern... a cock craving hole."

Merlin's eyes are pure black now, glaring holes through me, I am so going to pay for it this time... and I can't wait.

"I think you need to be reminded just who exactly you belong to Arthur," dark, gravelly tone now, just making me want him more and more.

Standing upright with his shoulders back gives him an air of power, the lazy arrogance of his stance make me want to submit to him even more, his eyes no longer boring holes through me, but instead indifferent and ambivalent... as if I am now beneath his notice.

"Strip."

Reaching up to remove my crown, almost thankful I can take it off... it is not light you know.

"Leave it... leave it on... take the rest off."

This drags a moan from deep inside me; the crowned king of Camelot, servicing his lover. The weight of the crown only another symbol to add to the many it already has.

Remembering all those years ago in the hunting lodge, me stripping down slowly for him, his eyes ablaze with lust, me riding him with abandon... everything about that night fixed in my mind as one of the most erotic experiences of my life.

Only now I want more, I need him to take me totally, to possess and use me... to make me his.

Fumbling with the closures on my robes, my hands trembling as his eyes flicker over me and then away again. Giving up with the closures and gripping either side of the front yokes, I rent them apart, sundering the garment in two.

Shrugging both pieces from my shoulders and watching them pool of the floor around my feet. Feeling Merlin's approving gaze flash over me. Yanking the tunic up over my head and letting it drop to join the ruined robe... black upon blood red, the gold of the Pendragon Crest marred by the black of the tunic and hidden from view as my under-tunic lands on top of the pile.

Naked apart from my crown, I reach for Merlin's signet, the one I gave to him as a betrothal ring only hours before, pressing my lips to it and whispering over it, "My Lord."

A groan, barely heard from Merlin, almost a growl breathed softly, as I make my way down his body, past his legs to his feet. Easing each boot off and placing them out of the way, his stockings follow in the same way until his feet are bared.

Bringing my knees up so my back arches I dip my head to his feet. Each toe in turn, taken in to my mouth before lifting each foot and nuzzling his instep, my tongue flickering constantly across his skin.

Glancing up, I meet his impassive stare with humbled eyes before looking back down again quickly.

Reaching beneath his robe, I undo the ties of his breeches and let them pool at his feet and lifting each foot in turn, remove them from him

Placing each arm behind my back, I use my head and the back of my neck to get under Merlin's robe, rising to my knees and looking at Merlin's cock directly in front of my face in the dim gloom beneath his robe.

Laying my cheek against the crease of his thigh, I inhale deeply the scents of his body and his cock, musky and earthy smells that is purely Merlin alone. His half-hardened cock jutting out slightly as the scent of his arousal assails my body. Mouthing where his leg meets his groin, the flavour and taste of Merlin intensifies as his hand forces my head hard onto his crotch, my nose crushed against the base of his now hard cock.

Opening my mouth to take him in is the only option I have left as my own arousal peaks and washes over me, leaving me breathless.

Taking his head between my lips, his foreskin not fully back, I slide my tongue beneath it and the full taste of Merlin explodes on my tongue, acrid piss and musky arousal, the slight tang of his pre-come all combine as my tongue swirls around the head of his prick.

With his hand forcing my head further down, I swallow his length further and further, my lips and tongue surrounding the firm flesh and soft skin. His hips driving himself deeper and deeper down my throat until my nose rests on the dark hairs at the base of his prick, so unbelievably deep... so unbelievably good.

His hand keeps forcing my head down further, pressing the crown almost painfully against my skull, but I could not care either way. His cock so deep in my gullet, almost blocking any air, thrusting harder and deeper I can't help it as my throat contracts against his prick, gagging... milking.

Feeling the tremors in his legs, I renew my efforts, fucking my throat on his cock, revelling in his taste. His hand lifts from my head, then reconnects powerfully above my ear as he pulls his cock from my mouth, not willing to let go I dive deeper on it again, receiving another crack to my head.

Finally getting the message, I let his cock spring from my mouth to make a wet splat against his belly and rest my head back against his thigh and I wait.

Pushing my head down, down past his cock and his thighs, his thin legs and long elegant feet until my cheek rests upon the cold flagstone below.

I blink as the bright light of the room is revealed once more as Merlin steps away from me.

I hear my own breath panting and my spittle coating my chin and dripping down the length of my throat. My face feels hot and flushed, my cock hard and aching and my body feels a yearning for more.

I can hear him rummage through the garderobe, the sound of clothing being discarded to the floor the only thing I hear apart from my own breathing, until his faint footsteps tell me he returns.

His foot between my legs, forcing my knees further apart, his other foot leans heavily on my back, forcing it to arch and then I feel it.

Trailing lightly across the small of my back, across the top of my arse... my sword belt.

The faint smell of leather and the feather light touch as it caresses my body.

A sweat breaks out on my forehead as I imagine what comes next, fear wars with anticipation, want battles with run and as the first stoke sears my arse, pain fights with pleasure.

That lightning strike that feels cool for only a fraction of a moment, giving way to a burn so intense and precise that finally dies to a sullen ache.

"Who do you belong to?"

Another strike and another flaming welt crosses the previous one, burning away any pretence of my power, proving to me that I am just a man.

Another stripe and the same question again.

Tears mingle with the sweat as the air gets driven from my lungs with each stroke of leather. Cries with every taste of the cruel belt as words refuse to form and I am incapable of speech.

"Who do you belong to Arthur Pendragon?"

A final, terrible blow lands directly across all of the other welts and I scream for forgiveness and pledge my life and soul to him... to Merlin.

My tears trek down my face and onto the cold hard stone below as his voice hovers softly just above me, "Yes Arthur... you belong to me... and I belong to you." His hands cradle my face and his lips are as a benediction, soothing away my tears and holding my heart in his hands

Raising my face to meet his, our lips finally meet and all pain is forgotten.

"Go to the bed and wait for me, I will be back shortly... it is time to speak to Claudius."

Shocked, I can do nothing but stare incomprehensively at him, "Why speak to him now? Why leave here reeking of me to speak to him now?"

"You may think it is cruel Arthur, but I do understand how he feels for you... how could I not? I shall not harm nor raise my voice; he will understand that I have claimed you without anything being said. Plus, we must find out more about Benedict tonight, although I fear we may already be too late to prevent whatever plot he may have devised."

"No, I must go now, I shall not be long and when I return, I shall take you over and over again until all you can recall is my body in yours."

His eyes are full of desire and need, I am sure my show the same.

I know he is right and that we must find out what Benedict has planned, but after the past hour, I'm not sure I can be removed enough... no Merlin is right, he must speak to Claudius alone and he must do it this evening.

With a petulant sigh I capitulate, "Make sure you come straight back here Merlin, I need to feel you."

Pulling his head back down to meet mine, I place a chaste kiss upon his lips, "Now go... and hurry back."

~**~

Looking around at the spartan room, I revel in the memory of Arthur's kiss. I know nothing may come of my love for him, but that I have some place in his heart soothes the ache that I shall never taste him again.

Glancing around, I need to do something about this chamber, whilst I have simple tastes, this austerity that my predecessor believed in is too stark for my tastes... perhaps some simple wall hangings and maybe bed curtains would help liven the room up.

Lost in a simple desire to have something of my own I fail to hear the knock at my chamber door until it is opened roughly and a sword is pointed at my throat.


	6. Ängeln i Rummet (QAn Angel in the Room)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter which Panthenon you believe in, there is always an Angel looking out for you.

Swallowing heavily, I raise my face in defiance of the sword pressed against my throat; the face that meets my eyes is the one who I should have known better than to discount, "Julius Gaius... you are quite the distance from Tirol."

A tall man with the swarthy complexion indicative of our region, his dark eyes burning with the fanaticism of the overly devout, once he was my friend... but circumstances and familial duties put paid to our friendship many years prior. His friendship to me at the time was invaluable, his desertion on the other hand... cut as liquid fire through me.

"Why are you here Julius?"

"I would have thought it was obvious." His voice, accented harshly, no longer the rolling gait of our native Tirol.

"Benedict." No more needed to be said.

The slight quiver that went through him translating itself through his sword and nicking my neck. This one hesitation was all the mercy Julius was prepared to offer, I feel his sword raise once more and close my eyes to await its descent.

"For the mercy of Our Lord, I forgive thee Julius."

Waiting for the blow that would surely sever my head from my shoulders, dreams of the past and present flash past my eyes, images of a red headed warrior queen crowned with oak and circled with gold, avenging her loss and grief. Prescience has never been one of my gifts, but I know that this woman was the answer and a warning all at once.

With her name on my lips and the sweep of air from the descending blade, I make my peace.

The pain that follows is indescribable as the air is forced from my body by the agony, but where I had expected to lose my head, my arm instead receives the blow. As my vision fades, an ethereal glow lights the room and an angel appears before me and I am positive that it is Archangel Michaelus here to bring me home.

~**~

I think this is the first wilful lie I have told Arthur... being magical doesn't count, not when my own head was on the line... but just now, I told Arthur that I understood Claudius' feelings and felt no ill will to him.

Wrong, Arthur is mine, has always been mine... and always will be mine. Do I hold Claudius' feelings against him? Asked and answered... of course I do. Do I want Claudius hurt because of them? Maybe.

Releasing a sigh, I realise that no matter what I want, my own jealousy is the seat of it all. I resent that Claudius had those five years with Arthur, five years in which he could fall for him and be near him... five years in which all I did was be apart from him.

Those five years sped by me as five months, with my wings locked I circled Albion from above, always dreaming of being below, but never able to do so. Fear, fear is what held me back, I knew that Arthur would know I still lived, the ring on his finger would have told him, but my fear of being sent away from him shaped as I was, was enough to keep me at a distance.

It took all of my strength to land on that oak and every bit of my will to land on the Falconer's wrist that time. To be so close to Arthur, but so far from him was heartbreaking, the best I could do was to perch on the bars of his cell and gaze longingly inside. Until that moment when Arthur raised his hand to me I knew not what his reaction would have been to me, and it is this fear that shames me now... that and the fact that I am going to face Claudius reeking of sex, Arthur's scent all over me. And even knowing just what that will do to Claudius, I still will do it regardless.

People call me many things, Royal Consort, Court Magician, Emrys... all of these things are only titles. People forget that I am still a man, a man from a small village, whose mother named Merlin and even if they do call me by my name, it is not the man that they speak to, but the image of something greater that has been imagined and foreseen.

It was easier when all I had to worry about was cleaning up after Arthur and not being killed by Uther.

~**~

"I would have thought it was obvious."

Checking my stride at the unknown voice, I pause, waiting for an answer that did not want to come.

"Benedict."

I have to know what is being said, gathering my will, I turn my awareness inwards, spiralling towards the realm of thought and belief. Releasing my mind from the physical I feel a detachment from the world around me as I cast my mind towards the Claudius' room

A faint blue tinge surrounds everything, focusing upon Claudius, resplendent within a golden glow, the other one dark and smudged with green and murky hues. It is here that I realise that my own feelings of jealousy and spite towards Claudius are unwarranted.

With the other lifting his sword, I feel the strength of hatred this man has towards Claudius. Not needing any further prompting, I cast my mind towards this man and lock his body in place.

The sword, that once was at Claudius' throat now embedded in his arm and his mind calling and grasping at mine as I am caught within the grasp of his vision.

A queen, fiery locks, with her sword in hand; a golden torc surrounding her throat and woven oak leaves circle her brow. This Queens grief shown by the haggard lines etched upon her visage, her kin gone... perhaps dead and her terrible vengeance upon those she blamed. Her name is Boudica, the sound of her war cry floating on the aethers, a guide and a curse... a way and a warning. She too battled the Romans and she won, but the price... the price was too dear, a pyrrhic victory against the roman invaders, the battles won, but the price was her crown and kingdom.

Why she would appear in a vision granted to a Christer I do not know, but the reason for the vision was clear, there was a way to defeat Rome, but the price may be too high.

Thrust free from our shared sight by Claudius' exhausted and agonised mind, I feel my mind recoil back to the physical in a flare of light that outlined my shape on the walls. Arms outstretched, exactly as if I was flying again, the glow surrounding the shadow making it appear as if I had wings again.

The calmness in Claudius' eyes before they glazed and closed frightened me, he had seen me with his visions, and I had no doubt that another name would be added to my growing list of honorific's.

~**~

Calling out for a guard, I rush to Claudius' body, his arm almost severed and his life blood pooling on the cold stones beneath, raising my hands to his arm, I can see there is nothing I can do to save it, but if I hurry, I can at least save his life.

Looking inwards again and thanking Gaius for forcing me to learn some anatomy, I trace the lines of his blood flow, closing and sealing each severed or torn vessel, burning the flesh to seal and protect the remains of the stump of his arm. Drawing the pain from his body as easily as one would water from a jug.

I wait until I see Claudius' breathing deepen and his colour return from that ghastly pallor. Always a pale man, Claudius now seemed translucent from the loos of blood and I could only hope I had done enough to save him, now it was up to him if he had the will to go on.


End file.
